Mandeville.) Sir, I'll trouble you for that two hundred pounds you owe me! Robert. Psha!-this isn't a proper time- Robert. Nonsense! His father will satisfy you. -Come-we'll all pay the old gentleman a visit together. (Laying hold of Realize's arm.) Real. Softly, master Robert-You may both go to the old gentleman as soon as you like; but, for me, I don't intend to pay him a visit these twenty years. Mand. No!-Why, where is he? Real. Where, I can't exactly say-only I fancy you are about as far from him now as when you were hot in Bengal. Mand. What, is he gone abroad? Real. No; he's gone home!- he's dead! defunct! was buried twelve months ago! Mand. Dead! - My father dead! I didn't expect this. (Putting his handkerchief to his eyes.) Robert. No more did I, Sir-Oh! h! h! (Weeping violently.) Real. Why, what's the milksop crying at? Robert. I'm crying to think what trouble old Mr. Mandeville's death will occasion to my poor master-What a fatigue it will be to collect in all the rents to pay his debts-to discharge you, and appoint me steward in your place-Oh! h! h! Real. Indeed!-If that's all that afflicts you, dry up your tears, booby-Your master is disinherited, Robert. Disinherited! Real. Cut off with a shilling! - Mr. Mandeville has left his whole estate to a woman. Robert, A woman!--Oh! the old profligate! Real. To your child, Sir (To Mandeville.) to his own grand daughter! "Mand. To Albina! Robert. Bravo!-Then it comes to the same point: my master of course manages the property, and I'm steward still. -- Real. There you're out again! I rather think Mrs. Rigid will manage the property. I rather imagine the young heiress will be ruled by the old governess; and as you've been no friend to her, Mr. Mandeville Mand. No friend to her!- How? Real. Nay: perhaps you may call it friendship to leave her to support your daughter at her own expence; perhaps you may call it friendship, not to write any letters, or remit any money, for three years together. Mand. Go on, Sir; let me know all. Real. Why then you may know that Mrs. Rigid informed the late Mr. Mandeville of your unfatherlike conduct; that he invited her and his grand-daughter to his house, and taking a fancy to Miss Albina, he made her his heiress. Therenow you've heard the whole story; and I shall call it friendship if you'll pay me my two hundred pounds. Mand. Not write letters!-Not remit money!-Hear me, Sir. - Real. Not now. The heiress is expected from Dover every moment, and I must go and prepare the Castle for her reception. Come along, Poacher; come and deliver your keys to your successor I'll take out a writ directly, and he sha'n't slip through my fingers a second time(Aside.) No more disguises, Mr. MandevilleNo more Sunday-men, Mr. Steward." Oh! what trouble will the old gentleman's death oc casion to my poor master!" (Mimicking ROBERT, and exit with COPSLEY at the Castle Gate.) Robert. Now all's out, Sir. No wonder at our not receiving answers, when they say we sent no letters. Oh that diabolical governess!-I always said you were to blame, to place your only child under her care, particularly when you knew she was once in love with you, and you refused her, and married her cousin, Miss Herbert. Mand. Oh, name not her!-If my Amelia had survived, I should not have been doomed unheard! What! deserted! disinherited!-Is this my welcome home? Am I to find a father dead, and dying full of resentment against me? a daughter prejudiced! nay, perhaps cursing my very name, and this governess Speak, Sirjustify your injured master. Robert. I will with my life, Sir; but don't be satisfied with Realize's story: let us get information elsewhere. Yonder is the house of Sir Solomon Cynic. If the old gentleman hasn't fretted away his life by railing at the follies of womankind, perhaps he lives to console and befriend you. Shall we go to him, Sir? Mand. Take me where you will. (Going, stops.) Robert, how old was Albina when we last saw her? Robert. About four years, Sir. Mand. And I left her in the fond hope, that I might one day find in her a recompense for the loss of her mother! And now if I behold her, she will avoid, upbraid me! That thought is past all bearing. I'll know the worst, and then my fate's decided. They may desert, but they shall not despise me! [Exeunt. SCENE--An Apartment in SIR SOLOMON's House. Enter SIR SOLOMON, followed by CICELY. Sir Sol. I tell you, it's in vain-your application's useless-you are useless-your whole sex is useless. Cicely. Nay, Sir Solomon Sir Sol. I tell you women are of no usenone; but to nurse children, mend linen, make puddings, and beat their husbands. Cicely. But consider, your Honour, the hare was killed by accident, not by design; the dogs chased it into your grounds; and I hope Mr. Realize won't dismiss my poor father Sir Sol. Keep off-keep within your magic circle-I hav'n't been within the reach of a woman these twenty years; and you are the very last I'd suffer to come near me. I have often observed you in my walks often noted your mischievous smiles, your penetrating eyes, and I don't like them-I say, I don't like them-so keep your distance. I won't be made a fool of a second time. Cicely. A second time, Sir Solomon! Sir Sol. Aye; I was once as much in love as Mark Antony, and like him I was deserted by my Cleopatra. His queen chose a mighty conqueror to be false with; but my Susannah, my fantastic Susannah, fixed her affections on a dancing-master-a caperer! and ever since I have had such a contempt for the sex-(CICELY lays hold of his hand.) Holloa! you touched me! I feel the shock-I'm electrified - I'm--What sweet lips the gipsy has! Cicely. If you would only pay a visit to our cottage, and be eye-witness to the distress you will occasion! Your nephew Mr. Howard has often been there; and if you would come and imitate his charitable conduct, I and my sisters would be so grateful-(Still laying hold of his hand.) Sir Sol. Your sisters! Pooh! nonsense! what should I do amongst a parcel of young, giddy, romping Hark'ye! are all your sisters as handsome as yourself? Cicely. Handsome! - How you flatter, Sir Solomon ! Sir Sol. I don't-You're the most lovely, most bewitching-Susannah was a dowdy to you! Look here, now-look at the omnipotence of Love! a man is never secure from its influence; and if he lives independent of the sex till he is so old and decrepid that he cannot stir from his bed, yet then, even then, he may fall a victim to its power. - Cicely. 'Tis Mr. Howard! Now I'll ask him to intercede for me. Sir Sol. Howard?-So it is! and somebody with him-Go-don't let us be seen together-I'll come to the cottage soon after sun-set; and if the hare was really killed by accident-Hush! — begone-no caressing-we'll reserve all that for by and by-(Cicely exit.)-So-I have once more the true Mark Antony feel. Enter MANDEVILLE and HOWARD. Sir Sol. Hark'ye, George! don't let me hear of your paying any more visits at the gamekeeper's cottage-If I do, a certain young lady shall know of your inconstancy-your-(Sees Mandeville.) Ha! who's that? Howard. A stranger, Sir, that- Sir Sol. Stranger!-Why, it's Mandeville! |